The Battle of the Bouquet
by Queen Among Writers
Summary: In which, Yuri is planning JJ's murder over the bouquet toss at Victor and Yuuri's wedding. *one-shot* *based on the artwork found on tumblr (with link inside)* RATED T FOR SOME LANGUAGE AND SOME MINOR ADULT JOKES/CONTENT... Slight Otayuri and Victuuri


Battle of the Bouquet (Yuri on Ice Ficlet)

 _ ***Quick Note: I do not own any of the characters and this was inspired by the comical artwork (that was based off a tweet) by the madelezabeth on Tumblr. Also if you DO NOT like Otayuri, then DO NOT READ.* *some cuteness with comedy towards the end***_

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If there was one thing Yuri Plisetsky hated attending, it would be weddings. All the gushy romance, frilly decorations and such, and obnoxious drunk idiots trying to dance… ugh, he felt disgusted just thinking about it. But there he stood, in a monkey suit, at the wedding of Victor and Yuuri. The whole atmosphere was ablaze with public displays of affection- some more PG-13 than others- which made the Russian Punk want to throw up in his mouth. Next to him, sat Otabek as solemn as usual. There was some level of comfort in having him there since Otabek functioned as his anchor to stabilize his tendency to act out.

"You look like you want someone to shoot you." Otabek bluntly pointed out to the fuming Russian who gave him a particularly nasty side eye.

"I think I know that." Yuri growled but his negative mood ceased when he felt Otabek grip his hand softly and give it a squeeze. Yuri inhaled deeply and muttered a brief apology to the Hero of Kazakhstan before turning his head to where a large commotion was taking place; witnessing Victor tackling Yuuri onto the table and making out with the Japanese skater. Yuri physically made the gagging motion at the sight while some of the other guests like Christophe whipped out their smartphones for some lasting memories. That only emboldened Victor's behavior which led him to get a little more risqué with his actions. The guests could barely hear Yuuri's half-hearted protests through all the squealing and all the nosebleeds occurring simultaneously. Yuri muttered under his breath, "I hate weddings…"

"Why do you say that Yura?" Otabek wondered and when Yuri glanced at him, he realized that he said it aloud instead of in his head. The Russian Punk scratched the back of his neck sheepishly as he was momentarily unable to come up with an answer.

"I don't know. I- I just think all the fanfare is dumb and unnecessary. If two people love each other, there doesn't need to be a lavish ceremony like something JJ would pull or a moderate one like those two idiots have going on. It would just need to be something meaningful for the two people and the power of the vows themselves should be enough to show their devotion." For once in the entirety of Yuri and Otabek knowing one another, the Russian Ice Tiger was soft in his tone and open with his feelings. Yuri swallowed roughly and moved his eyes to the floor; feelings weren't something he divulged in and especially not a public setting such as where they were.

"Yura… That is- is a perfectly acceptable opinion."

"You think so?"

"Yeah, I do. Besides, whoever you end up walking down the alter with would be the luckiest person because you will really love them and they, in turn, will be in love with you too." Otabek cleared his throat anxiously, blissfully unaware of the blush creeping up the side of his neck. Yuri would never admit that what Otabek said touched him. He blamed the wedding and all the mushy stuff for getting to his brain. But before he could say anything in response, someone approached the two.

"Yuri and Otabek." It was the katsudon himself. Yuuri stood above them wearing a stupid grin and a three-piece suit in charcoal. His hair was messed-up from his husband pouncing on him as a show only minutes earlier. Yuri was most surprised to see that his rink mate and the katsudon's husband wasn't all over him.

"Where is your dumb husband?" Yuri grumbled but Yuuri didn't answer. Instead, he wordlessly hugged the blond teen which provoked a gurgle of astonishment from Yuri. Otabek blinked and made no move to interfere.

"Thank you for coming…" Yuuri whispered, only moving when Yuri shoved him lightly off of him.

"Whatever. Just know that I don't condone you or Victor making around or fooling around at the rink because some of us take our careers seriously." The Russian teen hissed at the Japanese skater; but Yuuri didn't care. He understood that Yuri didn't do feelings openly.

"Alright then." Yuri scowled at the older Japanese man. He wouldn't admit this either but the katsudon was growing on him. He respected his personal space more than Victor did and he often cooked his mother's heavenly katsudon dish for him… But he'd never let Yuuri know that… or Victor for that matter. Speaking of Victor, the silver-haired skater finally realize where his husband had disappeared off to and made his appearance with a cheeky grab of Yuuri's behind and a kiss to his neck. "Victor!"

"Oh Yuuri… You still are so cute when I surprise you." Victor grinned wolfishly at his husband; prompting Yuri to make the gagging motion for the second time in ten minutes. Yuuri could only blush at Victor's conduct and weakly offer a half-hearted excuse.

"We should be tossing the bouquet soon."

"We also have to do the garter toss as well and I cannot wait to rip it off with my teeth…" Victor murmured into Yuuri's ear loud enough for his new husband to hear and no one else. The Japanese skater flushed a red so bright and forgot how to form coherent sentences; stutters and some choking sounds was all he could do. Victor, however, wore a shameless grin and held onto his beautiful husband. "But we should get the bouquet toss underway! We'll see you later Yurio and Otabek… Davai!" The silver-haired skater pranced off with his still stuttering husband in tow where they relocate to the center of the floor. The guests surrounded them and quieted down when they heard Victor's voice hollering for their attention.

"We are starting the best part of the ceremony, so could I have everyone who is unmarried or completely single gather in the center of the room please?" Everyone fitting that description, including Yuri and Otabek, rose from their seats and congregated in the center. Yuri finds himself next to Otabek while the Hero of Kazakhstan was sandwiched between him and Christophe. "Everyone look alive! He's about to toss the bouquet!" Victor shouted cheekily, smiling like a dope at his husband's lively grin. Yuuri practiced the arc while counting down.

"One… Two… Three!" On the third count, the Japanese skater hurled the gorgeous bouquet into the air behind him and straight for the excited crowd. Both Yuri and Otabek watch as the bouquet soars through the air right in the direction of the Russian Punk with light blushes dusting their cheeks. However, just as the bouquet was going to land in Yuri's arms, a blur slammed into the blond teen. Both figures hit the floor and an irritatingly familiar voice shouted from right next to him.

"IT'S JJ STYLE!" Jean-Jacques Leroy had literally quad flipped into Yuri's personal space and snatched the bouquet right from his waiting arms. The Russian teen found himself fuming silently on the floor as JJ boasted his victory by waving the bouquet and flashing his signature- but stupid- double J's.

"Oh my god! JJ, that means we're next!" Isabella, JJ's fiancée, squealed in delight from the mass of guests who had gathered for the bouquet toss. Otabek resisted giving her the side eye and instead, focused on Yuri.

"Yura, are you okay?" Otabek questioned from a distance because he noticed the furious glower the blond teen was sporting and feared that JJ had just signed his own death warrant. Wedding be damned if people thought that was going to stop the Russian Punk from trying to maul the Canadian skater.

" _Vengeance will come swiftly…"_ Yuri didn't respond as his expression said everything that his words would have pointed out. JJ dared to look up at Yuri, a gloating taunt already on his lips. Then their eyes met… and it was at this moment that JJ knew… he fucked up.


End file.
